


you're the one that i want

by trishapocalypse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American High School AU, Boy Kissing, F/M, Grease AU, M/M, asshole!louis, best friend!perrie, handjobs, idek what this is tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishapocalypse/pseuds/trishapocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very loosely based Grease AU with popular!Louis and new kid!Harry.</p><p>(Or: Harry's family take a vacation in Florida where he hooks up with Louis, only to realize when they move to Columbus, Ohio that Louis goes to his school. And it's not a happy reunion.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're the one that i want

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my darling Sam. Sam, babe, it kind of, um, well I don't know what it kind of did. (Apologies for the light Lilo. D: ) It started out as something and then kind of changed? So if you hate it, I'm sorry. (Also, shameless plug for North Market because it's my favorite place ever.) Anyhoo. The usual: hastily beta'd, this never happened, you're fabulous, and I love you.
> 
> tumblr: @trishanthemum :)

Harry wasn’t used to meeting sweet boys, especially sweet American boys, but this was his first time in Florida. His recent relocation from across the pond was still throwing him for a loop, and not just because of jet lag and culture shock. But his step-father had decided that a short holiday before Harry’s final year of school (because the American education system was fucked and confusing) was just what the family needed; and Harry wasn’t going to complain about anything other than the fact that Gemma, his older sister, didn’t have to make the move, because she was eighteen and had a job in London and could say no—he couldn’t.

Halfway into their vacation in Miami, Harry met Louis; a lad with sun kissed skin and bright blue eyes, a fringe that could never make up its mind whether it wanted to be in his eyes or styled away from his forehead, and a smile that made Harry’s stomach twist and turn. They had been staying in the same hotel, four floors between them as Louis’ family was staying in the penthouse suite while Harry’s family of three was stuck in one double room because the move from Holmes Chapel to Columbus, Ohio had nearly wiped out his step-father’s savings, even though he claimed it was for the best. 

And if Harry found himself sneaking into Louis’ penthouse with him for some snogging sessions or late-night skinny-dipping (at least on Louis’ end) in the hotel’s pool (even though that was definitely, definitely frowned upon) then, well. That might’ve been the reason why it was the best holiday Harry had ever been on. But it also probably had something to do with the fact that Louis was _nice_ and a gentleman, taking Harry out for lunch and buying him ice cream and ridiculous fedoras and maybe a flower crown. Maybe. 

But he and Louis never discussed where they were from, apart from Louis’ comments mid-snog about how fucking hot Harry’s accent was, among other things. And it was a weeklong summer fling that Harry had always dreamt of, but never thought he would actually have. And when he said goodbye to Louis the night before they left, he felt good about it. They didn’t exchange numbers or false promises about keeping in touch or adding one another on Facebook or anything like that. Louis simply kissed him and let him walk away and, well, if Harry spent the entire week before school thinking about Louis, how he smelled and how he felt and how he tasted, well. He definitely wasn’t going to admit that to anyone.

 

\+ 

 

“Senior year, Louis, how does that make you feel?” Zayn asked, throwing an arm around Louis’ shoulder, dragging him into a hug and messing up his hair.

“Hey!” Louis said with a laugh, shoving Zayn away and fixing his hair, smoothing it back away from his forehead. “Makes me feel good. One step closer to being out of this shithole, yeah?”

“And a lot of fresh meat for you to fuck around with,” Zayn offered. 

Louis smiled. “You’ve got to stop enabling me with talk like that, Zayn.”

“Aw, did you meet someone over the summer?” Zayn asked, condescension and teasing clear in his tone.

Louis’ mind briefly shifted back to green eyes and dark curls but he shrugged. “Met this guy on vacation, nothing important, though. You know you’re my number one,” he joked, messing with Zayn’s hair.

“Alright, I’ll see you at lunch. I’m gonna get off class before I’m late.”

“Later,” Louis told him with a nod before retreating to his own homeroom. He waved towards his classmates greeting him after a long summer, but he didn’t answer their menial questions; they weren’t exactly a priority. He shrugged off his leather jacket, tossing it over the back of his chair, and sat down, grabbing his pen from the spine of his notebook and obnoxiously tapping it against the desk. 

“How about you be a little less annoying this year, Tommo,” Perrie said, reaching over and ripping the pen out of his fingers.

Louis pouted. “How about you not touch my stuff this year, Edwards.”

Perrie tossed his pen across the room with a grin. “Just because you’re best friends with my boyfriend doesn’t mean I have to be nice to you.”

“As you keep reminding me,” Louis said. “But I have to question the validity of your relationship with Zayn, anyway. You’re a summer romance; you’ll fizzle out soon enough,” he assured her. 

“Don’t be jealous because you’re not getting laid on the regular,” Perrie told him, leaning over to ruffle his hair.

Louis grabbed her wrist. “Don’t touch the hair.”

Perrie rolled her eyes until she paused, eyes landing on a figure in the doorway. “Is that— Did we get a new kid?”

Louis turned around and froze because, no. There was no way that Harry, his Harry—well, not _his_ Harry but, his Harry—was at his school, in his classroom, only he _was_ and, okay. Well, it wasn’t like it was really _that_ far-fetched because the two of them had never discussed…well anything personal, not really, but this Harry was different. He was different than the bubbly kid on the beach with a handful of tattoos and wild curls; this Harry was more withdrawn, hiding underneath the folds of a thick cream sweater and baggy jeans, slouching and making himself appear even smaller. “Well, well, well,” Louis muttered, watching as Harry walked over towards the teacher with a slip of paper and a small smile. “What do we have here?”

“Oh, God,” Perrie whispered. “Tomlinson, if you do anything, I swear—“

“Calm down, Edwards,” Louis told her, finally meeting Harry’s eyes and smiling widely, sending him a small wave. He watched as Harry’s cheeks flushed and Harry sent him a small wave before turning back towards his teacher. 

And, yeah, senior year was going to be interesting. 

 

+

 

 _Fuck, fuck, fucking shit, fuck._ Harry tried to even out his breathing as he took a free seat two rows away from Louis, and he cursed himself even more for not trying to make an effort actually getting to know _something_ about Louis. Because there was no way, even in his wildest imagination, that he ever thought he would be seeing Louis again. (Well, a part of him hoped, but. That was it.) And now here he was, at his school, looking ridiculously perfect with his slicked back hair and…everything else.

He knew Louis was watching him throughout the lesson, and Harry couldn’t pay attention. Not that it was easy to pay attention anyway—the English lesson was something he’d learned probably three years earlier. The American education system was rubbish compared to back home and he couldn’t believe he had to sit through almost nine months of classes when, back home, he would’ve been off to university already; it was too bad all of his classes didn’t transfer. Or it was a blessing in disguise, he wasn’t sure. And by the time class had ended, he followed Louis out of the room, sucking in a deep breath before reaching out for his arm, causing him to turn around. 

“Hey, Lou—“

“Only my friends call me that,” Louis snapped.

Harry took a step back, the smile falling from his face. He didn’t know what he had been expecting when he talked to Louis again, but it wasn’t _that._ “Sorry, I—“

“Hey, Lou, who’s this?”

Louis briefly glanced over at Zayn before turning back to Harry. “Just a guy I met in Florida,” he replied. The halls were filling quickly and Louis could feel all eyes on him and the new kid and, something made him lie. And Louis wasn’t always a liar, and he wasn’t even particularly mean (though Perrie would definitely say differently), but he had a reputation to protect. And Harry didn’t exactly fit into that reputation. 

“Hi, I’m Harry,” Harry said softly.

“Zayn. You don’t sound like you’re from Florida,” Zayn commented.

“M’from England, actually, Chesire,” Harry told him.

Zayn nodded slowly before turning to Lou and laughing. “He’s the one you hooked up with this summer?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yeah, I had to work with what I had,” Louis said. “There wasn’t a big selection so that’s what I was stuck with.”

Harry ignored the feeling in the pit of his stomach because, well, there was a reason summer flings were only flings. And he would’ve definitely preferred never seeing Louis again to this altercation in the middle of a crowded high school hallway. 

Zayn turned back to Harry, giving him a once over. “S’pose you could always do worse,” he said with a shrug.

“Not much worse,” Louis muttered. “C’mon, let’s get to math.”

“S’nice to meet you, Harry,” Zayn tossed over his shoulder as he walked off with his friend. 

Harry stood behind, ignoring the laughter from students around him, and he straightened the strap of his satchel over his shoulder. All right, so, Louis was a bit of a wanker—Harry couldn’t exactly say he was _surprised_ because most ridiculously attractive people were wankers. But it didn’t connect, because Louis had been so wonderful and sweet and—no. He felt a hand on his arm and he turned to meet the bright blue eyes of a petite girl with lavender hair and a friendly smile.

“I’m Perrie,” she introduced, holding out her hand. 

“Harry.”

“Sorry about them,” Perrie said. “My boyfriend doesn’t have good taste in friends.”

Harry’s stomach dropped further because, no, Louis couldn’t be _straight_ because the things he did with his mouth—No. Just _no._ “Louis—?”

“Ew, no, Zayn’s my boyfriend,” she told him with a laugh. “I hate Louis.”

“Can’t imagine why. He seems like such a wonderful lad,” he muttered.

Perrie smiled. “Your accent is very charming.”

Harry flushed lightly, ducking his head. “Thanks.”

“The girls are gonna eat you up over here,” Perrie told him.

“I can’t think of anything I want less,” he deadpanned.

Perrie shrugged. “The boys will, too, don’t worry. We’re in the middle of Ohio, Harry; we’re always dying for something different. What class do you have next?”

Harry pulled his schedule out of his pocket. “History.”

“I’ll show you the room. Do you want to sit with me during lunch?”

“Not if Louis is gonna be there,” he found himself saying before he could stop himself. 

Perrie laughed. “I can’t guarantee it, but trust me, I can make him shut up if I want to. Just gotta threaten his manhood, you know?”

Harry smiled. “Then, yeah. Why not?”

 

+

 

Harry didn’t have anymore classes with Perrie, but he did have sociology with Zayn and a kid named Liam, who went out of his way to be nice to Harry. Except, he wasn’t being fake, and Harry just guessed that’s how Liam was—really nice and welcoming and, besides Perrie, he was the nicest person he had met throughout the day. He had warm brown eyes and a smile that actually made Harry feel welcome, and Harry figured he didn’t mind Liam so much. Even though he appeared to be friends with Zayn, but Harry also figured everyone deserved an equal shot, and maybe Zayn wasn’t exactly like Louis. Harry also had chemistry with Louis, and he was pretty sure that would be his least favorite thing all year. 

“All right, we’re going to pair up today, and the person you’re with is going to be your lab partner for the entire semester,” Mrs. Stanton, their chemistry teacher, declared, starting to pass out the syllabus. 

Harry sighed, glancing over the syllabus. Chemistry wasn’t his strong point, and he wasn’t really bothered because he knew that he could do well enough to pass, but. Louis; Louis was in his class, sitting three rows behind him, and he could practically feel him staring. Lunch had been awkward enough since Perrie ate with Zayn, Louis, Liam, some kid named Niall who pretty much ate everyone’s lunch, and a few others. Louis hadn’t exactly been unwelcoming, but he definitely hadn’t been kind. And chemistry was Harry’s last class, so he was just looking forward to going home. 

“—Styles and Tomlinson—“

“Wait, Mrs. Stanton,” Louis interrupted with a laugh. “Really?”

Mrs. Stanton paused and looked at Louis. “Yes, Mr. Tomlinson?”

Louis folded his hands together on the desk. “I just really think it’s important for my self-esteem if I were able to pick my own partner,” he explained.

“Do you?”

“I do,” Louis told her with a nod. “I really do.”

“Sorry, Mr. Tomlinson, but no one picks their partner. You’ll be just fine,” Mrs. Stanton told him with a smile, before finishing off her list of names. “All right, now everyone find your partner and find a lab station. Once you do that, I’ll pass out a little quiz that will gauge where we’re going to start this semester. Now, Mr. Styles, I know you completed this course at your old school, but this will be a little different, so I hope you aren’t too bored.”

Harry nodded, glancing down at his desk, feeling a flush creep up the back of his neck 

“Find your partners, everyone.”

Harry stood up, grabbing his books, and he looked back at Louis. He sucked in a deep breath and walked over to him, hoping he didn’t look like he was walking on death row, and he set his books down at the station. “Hi.”

“You better be good at chemistry,” Louis told him.

Harry laughed softly. “M’not, not really,” he replied with a shrug. 

“You’ve already taken chemistry but you’re not good at it? Bullshit.”

“It was organic chemistry,” Harry told him. “A little bit different than this, don’t you think?”

Louis shrugged.

Harry sighed, sitting on the stool next to Louis. He watched as Louis texted someone on his mobile and he couldn’t help but feel a little ignored. And it was…different. The last time he had seen Louis, they’d been on a beach, smiling, happy, snogging as if they had all the time in the world… And now Louis was barely looking at him. And it just didn’t _fit._ “M’sorry you’re stuck as my partner,” Harry told him softly.

Louis paused, turning to look at him. “What?”

“Your little speech about picking your own partner?” Harry offered. “I know you’re not thrilled. So I wanted to apologize.”

Louis hesitated for a minute, watching Harry. He hadn’t changed since Florida; he was a little bit tanner, eyes still impossibly green, and hair impossibly curly. “That? Oh, that’s just…something that I always do when we have group work,” he told him with a shrug. 

“Oh,” he replied quietly. “I—“

“Everyone work on this alone, _not_ with your partner. When you’re done, you can put it on my desk, and then we’ll discuss the syllabus,” Mrs. Stanton announced, passing out the papers.

Harry completed this paper quickly, but not as quickly as Louis, who took Harry’s paper from him and turned both of their papers in. The rest of the class passed quickly, and Harry was hoping he would have the guts to actually ask Louis is they could talk. He didn’t feel like having any tension between them, but he wasn’t even sure how to go about fixing it, because he wasn’t even sure what he did _wrong._ So when the final bell rung, Louis was halfway out the door before Harry even realized it, and he shoved his books into his satchel before following him, reaching for him arm. “Louis—“

Louis didn’t stop walking until he got to his locker. “Yes?”

“I—“ Harry trailed off, watching as Louis filled his bag with his books before shrugging on his leather jacket. “I just…feel like…something is weird? Like you’re upset with me or summat?”

Louis frowned. “Or what?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Or something, I don’t know. Are…are you?”

“Am I upset with you?”

Harry nodded.

“No. Why would I be?”

“Because you looked… I just feel like…you aren’t happy to see me? And I know it was just…summer, yeah? In Florida, it was…just a holiday. But, you seem different? And I thought I did something wrong,” Harry admitted, feeling like an idiot. 

Louis shrugged. “What if I’m not happy to see you?” 

Harry’s mouth dropped open but he adjusted quickly, shaking his head. “Then… I’ll leave you alone,” he said sadly. “I just thought—“

“What? That we would be reunited and magically become friends?” Louis asked, raising his eyebrows and fixing Harry with a pointed stare. 

“I—I don’t know,” Harry told him. 

“Well,” Louis said, “that’s not the way it’s gonna happen, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So—“

“Is this because we…hooked up? And you don’t want people to know?” Harry asked quickly.

Louis rolled his eyes. “Please, Harry. Everyone around here knows my business. No one’s going to care that I hooked up with a guy.”

“But they’ll care that you hooked up with me?” Harry asked for clarification.

“You’re not exactly my type,” Louis told him, slamming his locker shut. “See you tomorrow.”

Harry frowned as Louis walked away, and—what the _hell._ Suddenly he wasn’t Louis’ _type?_ What did that even mean?

 

+

 

Perrie saw him after school, hunching against the wall, his bag down by his feet. She looked over at Zayn, before turning back to Harry, and she let out a sigh.

“You okay, Per?” Zayn asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll catch up with you later,” she told him.

Zayn grabbed her hand before she walked away. “What are you doing?”

“Look at him,” she said, pointing towards Harry. “Twenty bucks says your precious Louis hurt his feelings.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “He shouldn’t be so sensitive.”

“And you shouldn’t be friends with such an ass,” Perrie told him. “I’ll text you later. I’m gonna make sure he’s okay.”

“Why is that _your_ responsibility? You already let him each lunch with us today. Why this?” Zayn asked.

Perrie shrugged. “Because he’s nice? And I’m sure he could use a friend. And, jeeze, I don’t have to explain myself to you, Zayn.”

“You’re my girlfriend. What if I’m not comfortable with you hanging out with some guy?” Zayn asked.

Perrie laughed, shaking her head. “He’s gay, Zayn. What’s he gonna do? Ask me for fashion advice? Ask to borrow a jacket?”

“Perrie—“

“I’m going,” Perrie told him, her voice softer as she leaned over to press her lips against Zayn’s cheek. “I’ll talk to you later.” She squeezed Zayn’s hand before turning and walking towards Harry. She approached him slowly, though he didn’t notice, and she reached for his arm. “Harry—“

“Christ,” Harry muttered, jerking slightly. “Didn’t see you there,” he said with a soft laugh.

Perrie smiled. “You okay?” she asked. 

Harry nodded quickly, rubbing at his eyes and hoping she couldn’t tell that he had been on the verge of tears. (He really hadn’t been. Except, okay, he had.) “M’alright, thanks, Perrie.”

“Did something happen?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“How was your first day?” she asked instead.

Harry shrugged. “It was alright, thanks.”

“A lot different than back home?”

“Definitely,” he agreed. “Doesn’t seem like it’ll be too hard, though.”

“Are you gonna go back home after you graduate?”

Harry shrugged again. “M’not sure, really, but I probably will since my sister still lives there. It just depends on how well this year goes, yeah?”

Perrie nodded. “I feel you. I’m still trying to decide what college I wanna go to,” she told him with a laugh.

Harry smiled.

“Do you wanna hang out?” she asked. “Maybe get a bite to eat?”

“You want to hang out with me?”

Perrie smiled. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t—I don’t know,” Harry said quietly. 

“C’mon. We’ll get some proper American food and then I’ll take you home. How does that sound?”

“It sounds great,” Harry admitted.

 

+

 

“Hey there, Curly.”

Harry looked up from the novel he was reading during his study period when he felt someone tugging on his sleeve, and he reached up to take out his ear buds. “Wha—“

“What are you listening to?” Louis asked, sitting down next to Harry and taking the ear buds from his hand, stuffing one into his ear. He paused, frowning, and tugged it out, shoving them back towards Harry. “That’s vile.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s Van Morrison—it’s hardly vile,” he told him.

Louis scoffed. “Please, I’ve heard better—“

“Stop, please,” Harry said quietly, shaking his head. “Just— What do you want?”

Louis shrugged and took the novel from Harry’s hand that he had been reading. He dog-eared one of the pages and Harry instantly slapped him on the back of the hand. “What was that for?”

“Don’t bend the pages, you wanker,” Harry told him, straightening the page and shoving in his bookmark. 

“Sorry,” Louis said with a shake of his head. “My bad.”

Harry sighed and watched as Louis flipped through the pages of his novel, reading the notes Harry had jotted in the margins. “What are you doing?”

“You’re really into this whole reading thing, aren’t you?” Louis asked.

Harry shrugged. “I like reading. I like getting good grades. If that’s what you mean by ‘this reading thing,’ then, yes, I do.”

“No need to get sassy, dear Harold—“

“Don’t call me that,” Harry snapped and he reached over, plucking his book out of Louis’ hands. “Now, what do you want?”

“I can’t just talk to you?” Louis asked with a wide smile.

Harry shook his head. “No, you can’t. You made it clear last week that I’m not your type and we’re not friends, so. What do you want?”

“Still salty about that, huh?”

Harry frowned.

“Okay, maybe I was a little harsh—“

“Maybe?” Harry interjected.

Louis rolled his eyes. “You just…surprised me.”

“That’s hardly my fault. Nor is it any reason for you to embarrass me in front of your friends,” Harry added softly.

Louis hesitated and watched Harry’s curls fall over his eyes. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Really? Because I kind of think you did,” Harry muttered.

“Maybe a little,” Louis admitted with a sigh. 

“Look, we don’t have to…ever talk about our holiday, alright? I don’t know if you think it messes up your reputation or if you’re embarrassed by me, and I really don’t _care._ But you were really rude to me, Louis, and it wasn’t necessary,” Harry told him softly. 

“You’re right, it wasn’t necessary, and it was very rude,” Louis agreed with a nod.

“Well…” Harry hesitated briefly. “Thank you.”

“No prob,” Louis told him with another nod. 

Harry watched Louis for a minute or two, noticing that the other boy wasn’t moving; rather he was just fidgeting and looking around the room. Harry sighed and closed his book, fixing Louis with a pointed stare. “What?”

“Huh?”

“You’re still here, so I assume you want something. Am I wrong?” Harry asked.

Louis smiled. “You’re really pretty.”

Harry flushed and rubbed at his forehead with the back of his hand. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

Harry sighed when Louis plucked his novel from his hands again. “Help yourself,” he muttered.

Louis scoffed and thumbed through the pages again. “You know, most guys would be offended if someone called them pretty.”

Harry nodded. “Hmm.”

“You’re not offended?”

“No. Should I be?”

Louis shrugged. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you weren’t my type.”

“I was your type enough for…everything that happened in Florida,” he muttered.

Louis laughed. “Please, a few make-out sessions and a couple of blow jobs don’t mean anything,” he told him.

Harry felt his stomach sink, he wasn’t sure why, and he ripped his book out of Louis’ hands. He shoved his book into his satchel and stood up, brushing the curls out of his eyes. “Okay,” he told him. “Are you done?”

The corner of Louis’ mouth quirked upwards as he watched Harry. “You’re upset with me.”

“M’not,” Harry said with a frown. “M’just done. So are you?”

“I—“

“You’re done,” Harry interrupted and he threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He didn’t bother looking at Louis, rather he told the teacher in the room that he was going to the library, and he left. 

Louis watched Harry walk away with a frown and, hell, what did he even do _wrong?_

 

+

 

Harry wasn’t going to cry; he wasn’t going to. Except, well, he almost was. And this was the second time he had found himself sulking against the side of the school with tears in his eyes. And this time, he was hoping Perrie didn’t find him, because even though Perrie was a complete and total sweetheart and probably his favorite person on the Earth, he was embarrassed. He was embarrassed that he was crying, he was embarrassed that Louis obviously thought so little of him, he was just…embarrassed. He was frustrated that _Florida_ meant more to him than it did to Louis, and he was aggravated that it was still bothering him. He knew he shouldn’t care; he should just shrug it off and let it go, because Louis wasn’t the be-all-end-all of his life. But—there _was_ something about Louis. There was a reason Harry had hooked up with him on holiday, and it wasn’t just because he was attractive, but the Louis he saw on a daily basis at school was nothing like the Louis he knew in Florida, and that—that was frustrating. 

He wiped at his eyes and sniffled because even though Louis was being a complete and utter arse, nearly unbearable, he was still… He was still Louis. And Harry couldn’t forget how nice and sweet Louis had been in Florida, and that was the Louis that Harry was hanging onto. And he felt like an idiot, a complete idiot, because Harry was pretty sure he would never know _that_ Louis again. For some reason, that actually upset Harry more than anything.

“Hey, Harry, do you—Are you crying?”

Harry looked up quickly, eyes wide, to see Liam kneeling next to him, reaching a hand out to rest it on Harry’s shoulder. “No, I’m alright,” Harry told him quietly with a sniffle.

Liam’s soft brown eyes were full of sympathy and he sat down on the concrete next to Harry. “You sure?”

Harry nodded and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Very sure.”

Liam patted Harry’s shoulder slowly. “Was it Louis?”

“Does everyone know how much he hates me?” Harry asked with a laugh even though he didn’t find it funny _at all._

“He hasn’t exactly been quiet about it,” Liam mumbled.

Harry shook his head. “Yeah. The lad’s unhinged.”

Liam hesitated, confused. “What?”

“He’s—“ Harry laughed quietly. “He’s crazy.”

“Oh. Right, yeah, he is,” Liam agreed quickly. “He’s always been an asshole, try not to take it personally.”

“It’s hard to not take it personal, Liam,” Harry whispered. “I thought—I mean, we met in Florida, and it was like he was a completely different person.”

“He’s got people to impress here,” Liam said with a careless shrug. “High school makes people different.”

Harry nodded. “Kinda forgot about that.”

“You’ll be all right,” Liam told him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I know it.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, sending him a small smile. And, yeah, Liam was just _nice_ and it was a very welcomed change after dealing with Louis for most of his study hall. “So, you were about to ask me something but I was too busy blubbering like a child.”

Liam laughed softly. “You’re okay, don’t worry about it. I was just going to ask if you had notes from sociology. I wasn’t really paying attention,” he told him, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

Harry nodded and opened up his satchel, pulling out his notebook and flipping to the correct page. “Here.”

Liam paused. “How about we get some food? I’ll copy them there. And we can…hang out for a bit?”

“You want to hang out with me?” Harry asked. “Mr. Popular Jock Liam Payne?”

Liam laughed. “I’m not _that_ popular.”

“You’re the star of the team. I may be new, but I hear things. Even though American football is quite boring,” he added in a teasing tone.

“Don’t say that too loud, Harry. We take our American football _very_ serious here in Columbus.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Liam said with a nod. “You’ll figure that out when OSU plays Michigan in November.”

“When who plays who?” Harry asked.

Liam grinned. “It’s a fierce rivalry. It gets ugly.”

“Kind of like Liverpool and Man U?”

“Yeah,” Liam said slowly, nodding. “Exactly like that.”

“You’ve no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“Not at all,” he admitted with a smile. 

Harry laughed again, shaking his head, and Liam was wonderful. Liam was _great_ and funny and Harry liked being around him. He didn’t think he would, since he had previously thought that Liam would fill every stereotype about American jocks that Harry knew of, but. He didn’t. And it was _nice._

“So… How about we get a bite to eat?”

Harry nodded. “Sounds brilliant.”

Liam stood up first, reaching out for Harry’s hand and pulling him up. “Brilliant,” he agreed with a wide smile. 

 

+

 

“Why is the new kid hanging out with Liam?” Zayn asked, setting his tray on the table during lunch and sitting down next to Louis. 

Louis glanced up from his chemistry homework that he hadn’t bothered finishing the night before and he shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Zayn shrugged as well. “Just odd, you know? Harry’s a little…strange.”

“What do you mean?” Louis asked. “He’s not strange, he’s just…British.”

Zayn laughed lightly. “Just British?”

Louis shrugged. 

“Okay,” he said before pausing long enough to eat a few of his fries and take a sip of his Coke. “So, what happened with him in Florida?”

Louis shrugged again. “Making out, a few blow jobs, nothing major,” he told him.

“That’s all?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s definitely not your type,” Zayn commented. “But he’s hanging out with someone who _is_ your type.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “That was years ago.”

“It was in April.”

“Fine, so _months_ ago. Liam and I were a fling. I don’t care if they hang out,” Louis told him. 

“You and Liam were a bit more than a fling,” Zayn said quietly. “You guys dated for two months. You _never_ date.”

“Harry isn’t interested in Liam.”

Zayn’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Well, Harry isn’t Liam’s type, okay?”

“Maybe he changed. You did.”

Louis set his pencil down and looked up at his best friend. “I didn’t _change._ I had a summer fling. We all have those. Yours is Perrie, remember?”

“I actually _like_ Perrie,” Zayn reminded him. “You didn’t really like Liam.”

“I liked parts of Liam.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Right. So it doesn’t bother you that your spring fling and your summer fling are now going to be a fall fling?”

Louis scoffed. “Please, Zayn. First of all, they’re not going to be a fling. They’re hanging out. Harry is friends with Perrie, too, are _they_ going to be a fling?”

“Unless Perrie is into gay dudes which, you know, could be possible—“

“She _is_ dating you,” Louis teased with a wide smile.

Zayn laughed and reached across the table to punch his friend on the shoulder. 

“I’m really not bothered by them hanging out,” Louis repeated. “Honestly.”

“Okay,” Zayn said with a nod. “Just—what did you see in him?”

“In Liam?”

“Harry.”

Louis shrugged. “It was vacation, you know? We were in the same hotel. He’s…”

“Scrawny? Too skinny?”

“He really isn’t,” Louis said before picking up his pencil and going back to his chemistry homework. 

Zayn peered over his shoulder to where Harry was sitting with Liam, an oversized cream sweater hanging off one of his skinny shoulders, and he turned back to Louis with a quirked brow. “Really?”

“He’s got muscles under there, I promise you,” Louis told him. “And tattoos.”

Zayn paused. “Tattoos? Skinny Harry?”

Louis nodded.

“Find that hard to believe,” Zayn muttered.

Louis shrugged. “Okay?”

“Maybe I’m just too used to you dating jocks with biceps the size of your head,” he mumbled.

Louis smiled. “Maybe that’s it.”

“So you’re not going after Harry?”

“If anyone’s going after anyone, Zayn, it’ll be Harry coming after me,” Louis said with a grin. “I mean, look at me.”

Zayn laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a real piece of work, Lou.”

“Thank you.”

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

“Yeah, it was.”

 

+

 

Harry hung out with either Perrie or Liam almost every day for the next two weeks. He was fitting in better at school—or, well, everyone finally seemed to be getting over the _new kid excitement_ and he was quite thankful. All eyes weren’t off him, though, not entirely, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of his accent, being friends with Liam, or the fact that Louis still gave him hell on an almost daily basis. 

(But even with Louis attempting to torture him every single day, Harry couldn’t fool himself into not liking Louis. And he blamed it on Florida, he really did, but it was _Louis_ and he couldn’t help himself.)

Perrie tried to help shield Harry from the constant barrage of insults but Harry told her that it wasn’t her place; yes, they were friends, but he didn’t need protection. And she understood, she did, she was just looking out for him. As was Liam who, for some reason, hated Louis; or, well, _disliked_ because Liam didn’t hate anyone. But—anyway.

“So, Curly, are you coming to my party tonight?” Louis asked Harry as he walked into chemistry.

Harry stilled and looked around the room. “M—Me?”

Louis nodded slowly. “Yeah. Who else would I call Curly?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said with a shrug. 

“So, are you?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, pulling out his notebook and sliding a piece of paper across the desk. “Here’s last night homework if you want to copy it real quick.”

Louis grinned. “Ah, thank God for you, Curly. You’re the only reason I’m going to pass chemistry,” he told him.

Harry forced a smile. “Yup.”

Louis took the piece of paper from him and copied down the answers quickly. “I think you should come tomorrow. You can bring your boyfriend if you want.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t—have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Louis said. “You’re not dating Liam?”

“We’re just friends. Is—Is he even gay?” Harry asked before he could stop himself. 

“Oh, Liam’s gay,” Louis told him with a smirk. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not dating Liam,” he repeated. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“That’s too bad,” Louis said with a pout.

“Are you done mocking me?”

“Are you coming to my party?”

Harry sighed. “Why would you even want me there? You spend most of the day insulting me and calling me names.”

“I call everyone names.”

“Convenient.”

“So, you’ll be there?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, alright?”

“You should go. It’ll be a chance for you to meet some new people, yeah? Expand your friends from Liam and that god-awful Perrie,” he said with a sigh.

“Perrie’s wonderful. Isn’t she dating your best friend?”

“For now,” Louis said. “Zayn and I aren’t the type of guys to be held down by one person.”

“I know,” Harry snapped. 

Louis paused. “Just…be there, okay?”

 

+

 

It was a spur of the moment decision, inviting Harry, and Louis wasn’t even completely sure why he did it. Zayn had given him enough trouble over it, but it wasn’t as if Louis could take it back. And part of him even doubted whether or not Harry would show up.

But, well, he did. Harry showed up at half past ten, Liam in tow, and thank God Louis was on his fourth beer because he was in shock. Harry was wearing another oversized sweater, dark blue this time, baggy jeans, and scuffed up Converse and, wow, who went to a party without _trying_ to look nice? Louis rolled his eyes when he saw Liam walk in right after Harry, nudging his arm and pointing towards the kitchen, and Louis walked over to Harry. 

“You came.”

“Didn’t really give me a choice, did ya?” Harry said, speaking up to ensure that Louis could hear him over the loud music. 

Louis grinned and handed him a bottle of beer. “Did you borrow your grandfather’s clothes?”

Harry rolled his eyes, taking the beer from Louis. “Sod off,” he muttered.

“Sorry, what was that?” Louis asked, still smiling.

“Sorry, did you not hear me? I said _fuck_ off,” Harry snapped, pushing Louis away and following the path that Liam had taken, finding the boy in the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator for a bottle of water. “Why did I agree to come tonight?”

Liam nudged the door to the refrigerator shut with his foot and he shrugged. “Because you like Louis?”

Harry frowned. “Is it obvious?”

Liam shrugged. “After his little spiel about you two hooking up on vacation, it just…makes sense,” he told him. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“He hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Liam assured him. “You know how when you’re in kindergarten and a kid bullies you on the playground, pulls your pigtails, and all that?”

Harry paused and shook his head. “No. But I understand what you’re saying, if that helps?”

“Well, that’s how kids tease, right? Show they like one another?”

“Louis doesn’t like me. He’s made that abundantly clear,” Harry told him. “So if that’s what you’re getting at—“

Liam shrugged. “I know Louis pretty well, Harry. He’s…”

“A wanker,” Harry offered. “That’s the word you’re looking for.”

With a smile, Liam nodded slowly. “He is, yeah. But if he invited you here, he must want to try at least. Maybe he realizes he’s been a dick, you know? And he’s trying to call a truce.”

“You just said you know Louis pretty well, yeah?”

Liam nodded.

“Does that sound like something he would do?” Harry asked. He wasn’t trying to shoot down everything Liam said, he really wasn’t, but he didn’t know what to believe.

“I’ve never seen Louis act like this, and I’ve known him for years. And I also dated him, so there’s that.”

Harry paused. “You dated Louis?”

Liam shrugged. “Just for a few months. It wasn’t anything major, trust me.”

“But—“

“Look, I had just been named the quarterback and… Louis dates jocks, you know? I was a conquest and I knew that. I don’t hold it against him; I knew what I was getting into. But he never _liked_ me,” Liam explained. 

“I’m sorry, I—“

“Don’t be,” Liam told him, “really. It wasn’t a big deal. But I just… I think he likes you. I think you should give him a shot.”

“I gave him a shot this summer, Liam,” Harry said softly. “And then he embarrassed me in front of the school.

“I know,” Liam said quietly.

“But,” Harry started, “if you think I should do it, then I guess I can try.”

Liam smiled, patting Harry on the shoulder. “Good. Now, go have enjoy an actual American party, okay?”

Harry laughed, running a hand over his curls, and he let Liam lead him out of the kitchen. The party was still in full swing and everyone was dancing and drinking; Harry was still nursing his first beer, the one Louis gave him, and he wasn’t exactly a _dancer._ He saw Louis dancing with Zayn and, when Louis caught Harry’s eyes, he mouthed something to Zayn and walked away, towards Harry. Louis sidled up to Harry’s side, leaning against the wall, and he took a sip of his beer.

“Still your first one?”

Harry nodded. “M’not a big drinker.”

Louis smiled. “I like your sweater.”

“Thanks, I borrowed it from my grandfather,” Harry deadpanned.

Louis laughed loudly. “You’re actually kind of funny. Why don’t I like you again?”

Harry shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Maybe it’s the sweaters,” Louis said thoughtfully, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist. “I almost forget what you’re hiding under there.”

Harry felt himself flush. “M’not hiding anything.”

“Sure you are. Tan skin, legs for days, tattoos that are just ridiculously attractive,” Louis listed off. “Ringing any bells?”

“Louis…” Harry trailed off, shaking his head. He had previously thought that there was no way for Louis to confuse him even further but, well, he was wrong. Because Louis didn’t appear to be drunk—tipsy, maybe, but not drunk—and he was flirting with Harry in a house full of people from their school. And it wasn’t as if no one was paying attention to them, because people _were,_ and Louis wasn’t deterred at all. 

“Do you wanna go up to my room?”

Harry looked down at his feet. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea—“

“Live a little, Styles,” Louis said. “C’mon.”

Harry could’ve stopped Louis from taking his hand and dragging him up the stairs and down the hall, but he didn’t. And maybe it was because he was hoping that, if they were alone, Louis would be different, nicer, more like the Louis he knew in Florida. It was a long shot, but one Harry was willing to take, because just the simple action of Louis lacing their fingers together as he shut his bedroom door behind them was enough to make Harry’s stomach flip. 

Louis’ room was nice, clean, and nothing like Harry thought it would be. (It wasn’t as if Harry was spending _time_ imagining Louis’ bedroom, he really wasn’t.) But the floor was clean, his clothes were put away, his bed was made, and even his _desk_ was tidy. Harry set his beer bottle down on the desk and glanced up at Louis, who was leaning against the edge of his bed. 

“Come here,” Louis told him, setting his beer down on the floor.

Harry didn’t think twice, he didn’t have to or need to, and he was crossing the room to stand between Louis’ legs in less than five seconds. Louis stood up, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s neck, and he leaned up to press their lips together. Harry was taller, just barely, but he sunk against Louis’ chest easily enough, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist. 

It was…familiar. It was a familiar touch that Harry had been searching for without even realizing it. And if he tried really hard, he could pretend that they were still in Florida, in the penthouse suite while Louis’ family was away. And, God, wouldn’t it have been simpler to just stay there forever? Harry wasn’t sure, and he really didn’t care, because Louis’ tongue was sliding between his lips and he just _wanted._ He had never wanted someone before, not in the same way he wanted Louis, and that was probably why he even hooked up with him in the first place; Harry wasn’t exactly the overly-sexual type, especially with Louis being the only guy he had ever been with. And, hell, he had forgotten how _good_ it felt to have someone pressed against him.

Louis turned them around, taking a step forward until the back of Harry’s knees hit the bed. Their lips parted and Harry fell onto the mattress, Louis climbing on top of him and straddling his lap, connecting their lips again. Louis pressed their chests together as he laid Harry down on top of the comforter, his hands slipping under the thick fabric of Harry’s sweater. Harry gasped against Louis’ mouth as his nails raked down his abdomen and he felt his cock twitch in his jeans; Louis shifted on top of him and Harry’s eyes flew open as he struggled to sit up because, wow, okay, he wasn’t expecting Louis’ to be as turned on as he was.

“Harry—“

“Please, stop,” Harry said, sucking in a deep breath. “I can’t—“

Louis groaned, rolling his eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

Harry frowned. “Louis—“

“It’s not that big of a deal, Harry. It’s just like Florida. Remember Florida? We had fun there,” Louis reminded him.

“I know,” he whispered.

“Then what is the big deal?”

“I don’t—It doesn’t feel right.”

Louis rolled his eyes and climbed off of Harry, standing up and adjusting himself in his jeans. “When did you turn into such a girl?”

Harry scoffed. “Because you know me so well?” he asked.

“Obviously not,” Louis snapped.

Harry sighed. “I just… I like you, okay?” he told him. “I like you. Do you like me?”

Louis hesitated.

“You don’t, see? That’s why we can’t. It doesn’t mean the same thing to you,” Harry said softly. “And it just…doesn’t feel right.”

“Felt right a few minutes ago,” Louis muttered.

“Louis—“

“Whatever. It’s not like I care, you know? I said you weren’t my type, and I meant it. I can get off with whomever I want. You’re not needed,” Louis snapped.

Harry felt tears prickling at his eyelids and, fucking hell, no—not _again._ He stood up and ran his hands over his hair before nodding. “I can take a hint.”

“It’s not a _hint_ when I’m telling you to leave.”

“Oh,” Harry said with a slow nod. “I’ll just…” he said, pointing towards the door.

“Good idea.”

Harry frowned and left Louis’ room, slamming the door behind him.

Louis groaned and, fuck, he knew the second Harry walked away that he had made a mistake, a big one, but. Well, it wasn’t as if he could turn back time. He ran his hands over his face and sat down on the edge of his bed. What was his _problem?_ He just couldn’t shut his mouth at all; his compulsive need to be so witty and funny all the time and just say whatever came to mind wasn’t always conducive to pleasant conversation. And Harry was proof of that, because whenever the boy was around, Louis just said the _stupidest shit._ And it had to stop.

 

+

 

Harry sighed heavily as Perrie took his hand and dragged him into the mall, something Easton or other, he wasn’t sure. And he supposed it didn’t really matter. Perrie had insisted upon a shopping trip and lunch—preferably milkshakes and burgers—and Harry’s parents had been all too eager to shove their credit card at him and tell him to have fun. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to hang out with Perrie, because he did, he just didn’t want to talk about Louis—and that’s was Perrie’s plan, because Perrie was kind of transparent and Harry wasn’t _that_ big of an idiot.

“Perrie, are you sure this is necessary?” Harry asked as Perrie dragged him into Forever 21. 

“Yes, it is,” Perrie insisted, pulling him towards the escalator and off towards the men’s section. “We’re going to make Louis rue the day he ever said you weren’t good enough.”

“He never said I wasn’t good enough. He said I wasn’t his type, that I wasn’t necessary, there’s a difference,” Harry reminded her and he felt his stomach drop at the memory. Because, okay, it was two days before but it definitely wasn’t something that Harry could forget. The guy he may or may not have fallen in almost-love with over his holiday pretty much telling him that he was unimportant, so—that’s not so easy to forget. 

“Same thing. I’m giving you a complete makeover and when you walk into school tomorrow, tongue’s will be wagging,” Perrie told him, pulling a pair of jeans off the table and holding them towards Harry’s hips. “These’ll do.”

“They’re tiny,” Harry said weakly.

Perrie rolled her eyes. “You’re trying them on anyway.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?” Harry asked, motioning towards his jeans and baggy plaid button up. 

“Harry, darling,” Perrie started with a soft smile. “You’re hot, okay? And I don’t know why you insist on hiding it behind baggy jeans and oversized sweaters. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s cute, but Louis doesn’t do _cute._ ”

“Who said I want Louis to do me?” he asked before blushing furiously when he realized exactly _what_ he had said. 

Perrie laughed, cheeks flushing slightly, and she pulled another pair of jeans off the table and handing them to Harry. “You sure that’s not what you want?”

Harry sighed. “I just want him to stop insulting me,” he told her.

“You said you two were getting into it Friday night, right?”

Harry shrugged. “A little.”

“And then you said it was moving too fast and he basically kicked you out, right?” she prompted.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “That’s basically what happened.”

“So, we make him regret it,” she told him with a grin.

“And trousers that will cut off my circulation are the way to do it?”

Perrie nodded enthusiastically.

“Isn’t Louis into, you know, the athletic sort? Isn’t that why he dated Liam?” he asked, his voice soft and, well. He really didn’t want to go through this whole _makeover business_ if it was just going to embarrass him even further. He could do that well enough on his own.

“He’s attracted to you for a reason, Harry,” Perrie explained. “You’re different than what he’s used to. And he’ll act like he hates it, act like it’s not what he wants, but everyone knows that what you’re used to is never what you actually want or need.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Perrie sighed. “If you want you’re used to was actually good for you, it would last, you know?”

“I don’t.”

“If Louis was meant to date jocks, be with jocks, be happy with jocks, then his relationships with said jocks wouldn’t keep ending. Does that make sense?”

Harry shrugged.

“Therefore, what he _actually_ needs, is someone different, not the usual jock he’s used to. And that’s why he hooked up with you in Florida. And that’s why he’s being such an asshole now. You’re different, and he’s not sure how to deal with that.”

Harry frowned. “You’re unhinged.”

Perrie paused. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“It means you’re crazy.”

“Still taking it as a compliment,” she insisted. “You have to admit that it sounds plausible, right?”

“I guess,” Harry said with a shrug. “I just don’t see why I have to wear jeans tighter than yours for this plan to work.”

“It’s not a plan; it’s just a makeover. And it’ll make him crazy. Doesn’t that make it worth it?”

Harry smiled softly, his dimple barely showing, and he shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

Perrie’s grin widened. “Perfect. Now, try these on and I’ll find you some shirts, okay?”

 

+

 

“You kinda disappeared at your party,” Zayn commented on Monday morning.

Louis shrugged as he opened up his locker, shoving in his bag and reaching for his books. “Didn’t turn out exactly as I planned.”

“Saw you dragging Harry up to your room, though.”

“Yeah, like I said—didn’t turn out exactly as I planned.”

“What happened?”

Louis sighed, slamming his locker shut. “He choked, alright?”

“Please tell me that you mean he choked on your dick.”

“Ew, gross,” Perrie muttered, wrapping an arm around Zayn’s neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hi.”

Zayn smiled and slipped his hand into Perrie’s back pocket. “How was shopping yesterday?”

“Harry and I had fun.”

Zayn frowned. “You went shopping with Harry?”

Perrie grinned. “Is that a problem?”

“No, you can do whatever you want,” Zayn muttered.

Perrie shook her head and turned to look at Louis, who had a glint in his eyes that she couldn’t place. “You okay, Lewis?”

Louis frowned. “I’m fine. Did Harry need more sweaters? Couldn’t he just get some at Walmart? I hear they have a great selection.”

“Don’t be an asshole. And Harry told me what happened. Why do you have to be such a prick to him?” Perrie snapped.

“He told you?”

“I don’t know why you think you’re God’s gift or something, Louis, but you’re _not._ You have no right to tell Harry he isn’t good enough and demand he leave—“

“That’s all he said?” Louis interrupted.

Perrie sighed. “Yes. Why? What _else_ did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying, but it doesn’t matter,” she told him. “For some reason, he likes you. I guess whatever happened in Florida was so _wonderful_ that he can see past how much of an asshole you are here, so thank your lucky stars for that,” she muttered.

“Aww, was Louis a little nice boyfriend in Florida?” Zayn asked, mocking.

“Shut up,” Louis snapped, shoving Zayn’s shoulder. 

Zayn smiled, shaking his head. “You like him.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t want to like him,” Perrie said. “I just don’t understand you. Are you so worried about your bad boy reputation, constantly chasing guys who are a _struggle_ because you think it’s fun? You and Harry got along on vacation, okay? And he _likes_ you. And you obviously like him. So why can’t you just—“

“You wouldn’t understand, okay?”

Perrie sighed. “Harry might easily forgive you for insulting him on a daily basis and embarrassing him in front of the school, but I won’t. And whatever you said to him on Friday, apologize—now.”

“I will when I see him,” Louis muttered, knowing it was insincere even as he said it. 

“Don’t lie to me,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “I’m not an idiot.”

“You’re dating Zayn, so you’re _kind of_ an idiot,” Louis pointed out.

“You’re his best friend. What does that say about you?”

“That I—I—“ Louis trailed off as he glanced over Perrie’s shoulder and saw Harry walking down the hall. Or, well, maybe it was Harry’s twin or a very, very convincing lookalike, because there was no way his Harry—well, _Harry_ —would be walking around in skin tight black jeans and a loose white shirt, hanging off of his collarbones and putting his swallows on full display and. Well, it had to be a figment of his imagination or _something._ “What the fuck is that?”

Perrie looked over her shoulder and smiled. Harry was walking a little taller, though he was still slightly slumped over, and he lifted a hand towards Perrie in a small wave. Perrie didn’t miss the slight flush on his cheeks as Louis blatantly checked him out and, well, her plan was clearly successful thus far. “That’s Harry, duh. Don’t you recognize him?” she asked, teasing. 

“Yeah, I,” Louis hesitated, watching as Harry slipped into their English classroom. “What the _fuck?_ ”

Zayn laughed. “You should see your face, man, wow—“

“Shut it, Malik,” Louis snapped. 

Zayn shook his head. “See something you like?”

“Christ, did you see his legs—“

“Louis—“

“No idea why he hid under those sweaters and jeans. I almost forgot how hot his body is,” Louis muttered.

Perrie laughed loudly. “You’re a trip, Louis.”

“No, but did you _see_ how fucking…pretty he is?” Louis said with a sigh.

“Pretty?” Zayn asked, his eyebrows rising. “I don’t think—“

“That’s the best word to describe him, trust me,” Louis told him definitively. “I really have to go apologize.”

“Yeah, you do,” Perrie told him.

Louis nodded, though his mind was definitely elsewhere, and he sent Perrie and Zayn a weak wave before walking into his classroom. It was probably only the fourth time he was actually _early_ for class and he found himself taking a seat directly to Harry’s left, tapping him on the shoulder.

Harry pushed his curls out of his eyes and fixed Louis with a pointed stare. “That’s not your seat.”

“I won’t be here for long,” Louis assured him. “Just long enough to ask you out.”

“On a date?” Harry deadpanned. “You’re asking me out?”

Louis nodded. 

Harry pursed his lips. “So, because you now find me aesthetically pleasing, I’m worth your time?”

“I’ve always found you aesthetically pleasing,” Louis assured him. “It’s just that now I remember what a tight ass you have,” he replied cheekily.

Harry flushed and ran a hand over his face. “You can’t just _say_ things like that,” he said quietly.

“Why not?” Louis said with a shrug. “I actually think it should be illegal to wear those grandpa sweaters. Unless, you know, that’s all you’re wearing.”

Harry sucked in a deep breath and his blush refused to recede. “Louis—“

“So, how about it? Dinner? Tonight? We can go to that ridiculous diner that you and Perrie go to all the time,” he suggested.

“I like that diner,” Harry said with a pout.

“Or I can take you to North Market. It’s this brilliant place. They have barbeque or Italian or Vietnamese. They have fresh bread and crepes and—“

“Louis,” Harry interrupted with a sigh. “Three days ago you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Not true. I was trying to get in your pants—I must’ve wanted _something_ to do with you,” Louis reminded him.

Harry frowned. “Be that as it may, you can’t just…go from that to asking me out.”

“Not without an apology anyway, you’re right. I’m an asshole. And by way of a more physical representation of an apology, you should let me buy you dinner,” he suggested. “What do you say?”

He sighed. “I just…don’t know.”

“Perrie said you like me,” Louis told him. “Is that true?”

Harry sucked his bottom lip into his mouth because _damn it all to hell_ of course it was true. He felt himself nod because, well, it wasn’t as if he had anything left to lose, yeah? “Maybe a little.”

Louis grinned. “So, North Market? After school?”

Harry sighed. “This is a horrible apology. You haven’t even said you’re sorry.”

“Oh,” Louis said before pausing. “I’m…sorry.”

“That was loaded.”

“No, I just…don’t apologize,” he told him. 

“Couldn’t tell,” Harry muttered.

Louis smiled softly. “I never actually feel like I’ve done anything to apologize for, you know? But… Perrie informed me that I hurt your feelings on Friday.”

“Perrie doesn’t even know the full story,” Harry interjected. “And I’m an adult. I can get over some hurt feelings.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. And I meant it, you know? I meant to hurt your feelings. And that was really stupid of me. And I’m sorry.”

“Louis Tomlinson apologizing,” Harry said, nodding slowly. “I must be really special.”

Louis laughed softly.

“Or just…really attractive because you’re going out of your way to get into my pants.”

“I’ve already been in your pants,” Louis told him. “Need I remind you?”

“No, I—I remember,” Harry said with a soft laugh. 

“Good. So? After school?”

Harry felt himself nod. “Yeah, okay,” he told him. He had a feeling he would probably regret it, but he was also worried that he _wouldn’t._ Because Louis actually did apologize and, well, did it matter if it was only because of the way Harry was dressed? He needed something to catch Louis’ attention and apparently Perrie was right. So, there was that. It was a refreshing change and Harry couldn’t say he hated it. 

 

+

 

_”It’s a bad idea, Lou, that’s all I’m saying.”_

Louis heard Zayn’s words ringing in his head throughout the rest of the day. And even through chemistry, he found himself thinking about it. Though he was able to push it aside until Harry climbed into the passenger’s seat of his car, buckling up and smiling towards Louis. The ride there was silent and long, Columbus rush hour traffic was probably the bane of Louis’ existence, but once they found the parking lot and walked inside, it was worth it. Harry’s eyes widened as he took in the renovated warehouse and Louis slipped an arm around his waist. 

“Wanna walk around first?”

Harry nodded and allowed Louis to lead him around the market, pointing out every different vendor as they explored their food options. Harry settled on Italian, the six-cheese lasagna looking like the best decision ever, and Louis got the same thing, paying for both before Harry could reach for his wallet. They made their way upstairs to the dining area around the perimeter and they sat down.

“So, what inspired your whole make over?” Louis asked, spreading some garlic butter over his bread and taking a bite.

Harry shrugged. “Perrie’s idea, actually. This isn’t exactly something I would pick out on my own,” he told him with a laugh before taking a bite of his lasagna. And, okay, definitely the best decision ever. “This is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? I love coming here,” Louis told him, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s one of the best places in Columbus. Do you have anything like this in London?”

“Cheshire,” Harry told him. “And, yeah, some. Not a lot. And nothing exactly like this.”

“It’s one of a kind, that’s for sure. Do you miss Cheshire?”

Harry nodded. “I do. Moving here was very…sudden, and it’s quite different, but I think I’m adjusting well enough.”

“I think so, too,” Louis told him. “We’ll have to go to a football game Friday night—get the real all-American experience.”

“Do I have to? Egghand isn’t really my thing.”

Louis laughed loudly. “Is that what y’all call it?”

Harry shrugged. “It looks like an egg!”

“Don’t say that to Liam. I doubt he’d find it funny.”

“He laughed quite loudly when I said it.”

“Liam’s polite; he laughs at everything,” Louis said with a shrug.

Harry smiled and finished his meal quickly, declaring it was the best thing he’d ever had. He stood up, tugging up the hem of his jeans, and reached for his container.

“Can you toss mine for me, too?” Louis asked, handing him his Styrofoam container.

Harry paused, eyes widening. “Sorry?”

“Can you…toss mine for me, too?” he repeated, motioning towards his food.

“Oh,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Sorry, I—You want me to throw it away, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis told him with a laugh. “What’d you think I meant?”

Harry took the container from his hand and threw it away quickly before sitting back down across from Louis. “Just…toss means something different where I’m from, is all,” Harry told him. “You just caught me off guard.”

“What does it mean where you’re from?” Louis asked

“To, um,” Harry started awkwardly, biting his lip, and he shrugged. 

“To…? To paint? To… I don’t even know what else it could mean, if I’m being honest,” he admitted.

“Masturbation,” Harry blurted out, ignoring the way his cheeks went red.

Louis burst out laughing and he ran a hand over his hair, causing a few strands to fall into his face. “Oh, God, and you thought I meant—You thought I meant that I wanted you to jack me off under the table, in front of all these people, or something?” he asked through his laughter.

“No!” Harry said, shaking his head. “Not at all, I just—“

“Wouldn’t be the first time, yeah?”

Harry groaned. “Don’t—“

“That party on the beach, remember, two nights before I left? We went skinny dipping and, well, if you don’t remember the rest then maybe you should give me another shot,” Louis told him with a grin.

“I remember,” Harry said quietly. 

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his curls. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“Can we do this again?” Louis asked before he could stop himself.

“Embarrass me in public? Sure, why not,” Harry said with a small grin.

Louis smiled. “No, just… Go out again?”

“Sure,” Harry told him with a nod.

“Good.”

“Brilliant.”

Louis stood and held out his hand for Harry, half-expecting him not to take it, and he was surprised to feel Harry’s long fingers tangle with his own as he stood. He tugged Harry closer and pressed their lips together quickly, just _enough,_ and he pulled away with a smile. “I’m gonna try, okay?”

“Try?”

“To…be better for you,” he said quietly. “Not be so horrible at school, insult you, call you names—“

“Louis, you don’t have to make any promises to me,” Harry told him.

Louis nodded. “I know. But I want to.”

 

+

 

Harry stifled a laugh as Perrie spun around in his computer chair, her blonde and lavender hair fanning out around her. “Having fun?”

Perrie nodded and grabbed the edge of Harry’s desk, stilling the chair. “Yes. Do you know why?”

“Because you’re getting dizzy and you’re going to throw up all over my room and won’t have to clean it up?” Harry guessed, looking up from his chemistry textbook. 

“No,” she told him. “Because I’m not doing chemistry homework, for one.”

“And for two?”

“You and Louis.”

“You’re having fun because of me and Louis?” Harry asked with a frown.

Perrie grinned. “I told you it’d work, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Harry agreed with a nod. 

“And he’s not being a dick to you at school,” Perrie added.

Harry laughed, holding up his chemistry packet. “Still making me do his homework for him, though.”

Perrie smiled. “Yeah, but I bet you’re getting something out of it, too, now,” she told him with a wink.

Harry felt himself flush and he rolled his eyes. “We’re taking it slow.”

“Bet he loves that,” she muttered.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really have a choice, yeah? M’not ready to…you know, go _that_ far—“

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Harry said with a nod. “I mean, we didn’t in Florida, either. I haven’t with anyone. I just…don’t want to do it just to do it, yeah?”

“You want it to mean something?” Perrie offered.

Harry nodded. “Is that mad?”

Perrie shook her head. “Not at all. Don’t do anything if you’re not ready or if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, trailing off and tucking his chemistry packet between the pages of his textbook, deciding he would do it later. “I just want to make sure that it means something with Louis. I know he’s been with other lads and that doesn’t bother me, I just…”

“Want to feel like it means something to him?”

Harry nodded and he heard his phone vibrate on the nightstand next to his bed. He shoved his chemistry book into his satchel and reached for his phone, opening the text message from Liam.

_partyyy @ mine aftr game friday? u in?_

“Are you going to Liam’s party Friday after the game?” he asked Perrie quickly.

Perrie shrugged. “Probably, if Zayn wants to, and if Louis is. You know they’re practically separated at the hip.”

Harry laughed before typing out a reply. _sure thing. is lou going? .xx_

_u can bringg him if u wnt 2_

“We’ll probably end up going. Liam just invited me, so,” Harry trailed off with a shrug.

“You know Lou is always up for free alcohol and a chance to get some,” Perrie teased.

Harry laughed. “He’s not _that_ bad. Just likes to show off near his friends, you know?”

“Ugh, men,” Perrie said with a groan and an exaggerated eye roll. 

 

+

 

Louis knew it wouldn’t take much to convince Zayn of the dire need to pre-game before Liam’s party, not just because it was _Liam’s_ party but also because Louis may or may not have failed his chemistry exam earlier that day and he just needed to let go. But Zayn was a pal, a champ, and made it over to Louis’ with a bottle of Smirnoff that he nicked from his father’s liquor cabinet, and Louis was set. Passing the bottle back and forth, Zayn reminded Louis that dating Harry was a bad idea, a bad, _bad_ idea and Louis simply rolled his eyes, taking another drink from the bottle, because, no. Dating Harry _wasn’t_ a bad idea, Harry was a good idea, a great one, and he was trying so hard to be better for him, and Zayn’s constant criticism of their relationship was starting to annoy; so he took another drink and pushed it to the back of his mind. 

An hour later Louis was stumbling into Liam’s house, Zayn instantly leaving his side in search of Perrie, and Louis grabbed the first cold beer he saw. He looked around for Harry, finding him in the living room next to Liam, dark jeans and a halfway unbuttoned plaid shirt, and he looked _amazing._ Louis subconsciously ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he walked across the room to Harry, slipping an arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Hi, handsome.”

Harry laughed, looking away from Liam to send Louis a fond stare. “Smashed already?” he asked.

Louis smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Great party, Li.”

Liam laughed, taking a drink out of his water bottle. “Thank you. How’ve you been, Lou?”

“Good. Great, even,” Louis told him, slipping his fingers under the hem of Harry’s shirt to grab the soft skin at his side, causing him to flinch and let out a less-than-manly giggle.

“Stop,” Harry muttered. “Sorry, Liam—“

“No, you’re fine,” Liam told him. “You two go and have fun. I’m going to make my rounds.”

“You don’t have to—“ Harry started before he was interrupted.

“No, you can,” Louis told him. “Bye, Liam.” Liam shook his head and laughed before walking away from him, and Louis wound his other arm around Harry’s waist as well, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “You look amazing.”

Harry flushed as Louis mouthed against the side of his neck. “Louis, you’re drunk—“

“Not entirely,” Louis promised, pulling away. “Come with me.”

Harry laced his fingers with Louis as he was pulled up the flight up stairs, down the hall, and into a bedroom. He didn’t have time to contemplate what was going on because Louis’ mouth was immediately back on his, his hands fumbling with Harry’s belt. Harry reached for Louis’ hands and pulled back, sucking in a deep breath. “You’re drunk, Louis, we shouldn’t—“

“We should,” Louis told him with a nod, grabbing Harry’s hips and walking him backwards towards. 

Harry’s knees hit the frame of the bed and he fell backwards, Louis climbing on top of him and unbuttoning his shirt. Harry’s breathing quickened and he briefly looked around the room before Louis was tugging him upwards and pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. “Lou, I think this is Liam’s room—“

“Don’t care,” Louis said, pulling away and pulling off his own striped shirt, tossing it aside. 

Harry bit back a groan as Louis unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down his hips. “Louis—“

“Shut up, Harry,” Louis told him, pressing his lips to the side of Harry’s neck.

“Christ,” he groaned as Louis wrapped his fingers tightly around him, jerking him off until he was hard and leaking in his palm. Harry’s fingers dug into Louis’ biceps, his hips arching off the bed, and Louis fit their lips together again. Harry moaned as their tongues slid together and he reached for Louis’ jeans, unbuttoning them and reaching in to wrap his hand around Louis’ straining erection. 

Louis moaned, throwing his head back. “Harry—Need to—“ He pulled away long enough to reach over towards Liam’s nightstand, pulling open the drawer and rummaging through it. He pulled out a condom and tossed it towards Harry, who froze in place, green eyes wide. “What?”

Harry set the condom down on the sheets and shook his head. “I can’t—We shouldn’t—“

“We don’t have to,” Louis said quickly, turning back towards Harry and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “I just—You’re so—And I want—“

“I know, me too, just—“ Harry cut himself off because okay, wow, he wasn’t exactly sure when he decided sex with Louis was actually going to happen but— “Not here? Not in… Not in Liam’s room, with a house full of people…”

Louis nodded and cupped Harry’s face in his hands, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “It’s okay, Harry,” he whispered. Louis reached around to push his jeans further down his hips and he grabbed Harry’s hand, licking a wet stripe up his palm before pushing it down his hips. Harry instantly wrapped his fingers around Louis’ erection, causing the older boy to let out a small gasp; Louis grabbed Harry’s cock and jerked him off quickly.

Harry licked and nipped the soft skin at the side of Louis’ neck, biting down when Louis twisted his wrist. He sucked in a deep breath and matched Louis’ pace, stomach muscles clenching; Louis moaned into Harry’s curls. Harry panted, trying to voice a warning, but he couldn’t, and he came over Louis’ fist with a weak groan leaving his lips.

Louis grinned briefly before lacing his fingers with Harry’s, jerking himself off quicker, until he released over top of their fingers, a sigh of Harry’s name escaping his mouth. He sucked in a deep breath before pushing Harry back onto the mattress, curling around him, and nuzzling the side of his neck. 

“M’sweaty and gross,” Harry mumbled, turning onto his side to scoot closer towards Louis.

“Shut up, Harry,” Louis whispered, pressing a kiss against his temple.

“Okay,” Harry said with a nod, eyes drifting shut as Louis wrapped his arms around his waist. “Liam’s gonna kill us.”

Louis laughed and reached for the blanket, pulling it over their hips. “Liam will deal.”

“He’s gonna hate us.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”


End file.
